


Long Way Down

by wanderinghooves



Category: Fullmetal Alchemist: Brotherhood & Manga
Genre: Alchemist!Riza, Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Angst, Canon Backstory, Episode 19 - Death of the Undying, F/M, Riza is really really upset, Riza mercs Lust, Riza's dad is a bad person, Sort Of, hurt/some comfort, rated for some minor gore, truly this is just a bunch of angsty nonsense
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-02-20
Updated: 2018-02-20
Packaged: 2019-03-21 13:32:44
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,415
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13741968
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/wanderinghooves/pseuds/wanderinghooves
Summary: Riza is no Alchemist, but desperation can cause some unnatural things.Or, the Lieutenant plays with fire.





	Long Way Down

**Author's Note:**

> https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=U-ZDBddRXFA

Riza’s eyes strain as she peers into the darkness of the hallway.

Her spine stiffens as she catches the sound of approaching footsteps, and her forefinger instinctively slips from the pistol’s guard onto the trigger. Somewhere behind her, she hears Alphonse gasp, and she knows he’s sensed it too.

The footsteps grow ever louder and then finally halt, and Riza sees it.

The homunculus melts from the shadows of the hallway, silent. She is horribly beautiful, all alabaster skin and lascivious curves, but Riza’s jaw clenches at the terrible eyes, the hollow evil she recognizes from Gluttony. 

Barry shifts beside her, almost smug.

“I was wondering when you were going to show up, Lusty.”

The homunculus’s black lips twist.

“Number 66. Care to explain why you’re helping the Colonel?”

Riza narrows her eyes. So that’s it, then. The homunculi know who they are. Know who _he_ is.

She can hear the pieces of Barry’s armor clank together as he waves exaggeratedly.

“I thought it’d be fun to switch things up.”

He ceases his flailing to extend the massive blade out in front of him, turning it wickedly at Lust.

“Besides, I’ve wanted to chop _you_ up since I met you.”

Lust is unaffected by this, rolling her eyes dramatically as she slouches on one leg. Despite this, Riza feels herself tense. Something is going to give.

“You’re such a handful, 66.”

The black eyes roll onto Alphonse; Riza’s teeth grind. She will not let this monster touch him. 

“And I’m sad to see you here, Armor Boy. You just had to tag along.”

Lust’s voice had lilted into a twisted pout, but now the edge slices through.

“Now you’re forcing me to kill a second candidate.”

Alphonse speaks before Riza can process this.

“Candidate? A _second_ one?”

Riza can feel the gears spinning in her brain, desperately attempting to account for the homunculus’s words.

“Yeah. You and Mr. Gallantry-”

“That’s enough casual chit-chat, Lust!” 

Barry materializes in front of Riza, stance unhinged. She can see him trembling with some sort of anticipation.

“All I want to hear from you is screaming!”

He’s barreling towards Lust, blade aloft, and then suddenly, he’s not there at all.

Lust’s movement is so fast that Riza’s eyes can’t track it, but then she sees them, the horrifying claws, extending in jagged fashion three feet from the homunculus’s fingers. 

Shattered armor crashes to the floor between them.

Lust sneers as a section of helmet rolls to a stop before her, kicking it delicately with one foot. 

“I do hate overconfident men. Now, where were we?”

Riza’s blood turns cold as the scornful gaze locks onto her.

“I think I was about to send the Lieutenant to join her superior.”

Then, suddenly, in one terrible instant, Riza comprehends.

It’s impossible.

Her jaw, wedged shut like steel, slackens; she can’t prevent a ragged gasp from escaping. Her throat narrows to nothing as the breath leaves. 

Still, her voice cuts through.

“Wait a minute.”

Her hands are fused, immovable, to the grip of her pistol.

“So when you said you’d already had to kill someone-”

The homunculus is sauntering forward, her steps clicking against the concrete, expression molded into awful knowing.

“It can’t be. You didn’t.”

The fangs are unnaturally white, glistening in a smile. 

Riza’s fingers are numb against the gun’s cold steel and she sees nothing.

_“You bitch!”_

A deafening cadence fills the room as she empties the cartridge, burying rounds in Lust’s head, chest, whatever she can get at. The Hawk’s Eye has no skill here.

Dimly, she thinks she might be screaming. 

The first gun stops firing, so she rips the second from her harness. Lust’s face looms ever closer, and no matter how many bullets Riza unloads, she can’t stop the awful leering. She can’t destroy the terrible knowledge that somewhere, somewhere in the depths of this hell, Roy Mustang is no more.

The crack of bullets falters into silence, and she drops the pistol absently, scrabbling to grab at the revolver on her back, and then-

Once again, the homunculus is too fast to see.

Riza buckles in slow motion.

And then her back explodes.

The claws dig cruelly into her flesh, carving a brutal curve as Riza’s body twists. She’d left herself open. 

The back of her shirt vanishes into ribbons, and she feels her muscles spasming beneath her as she collapses to the ground. The cuts are viciously clean but tear further and further as old scar tissue reopens under the convulsions, and suddenly she feels it. 

The burning is like white-hot brand, and her face contorts into a terrible, silent cry, her eyes screwed shut. Her mind reels blindly.

She sees the study, its doorway yawning dark and lifeless. The book, all the terrible notes, the work of a madman. Her father, jealously grasping a needle blood-red with ink. Something snaps into place. 

The circle is closed once more.

She hears the shoes click against the cement.

Numb hands force herself up onto her knees, and she sees Lust looming before her. She meets the gaze, refusing to flinch.

“Such loyalty.”

The homunculus raises a slender arm, and the claws extend like a nightmare.

“Don’t worry. You’ll be seeing your Colonel again shortly.”

Riza’s eyes bore into Lust with unwavering vigor. A river of something cold and black oozes into her chest, and she has never felt hatred like this before, not in Ishval, not for her father. Her fingers clamp around something hard at her waist.

The claws are slicing down, down, but her gaze doesn’t break for a moment.

Alphonse is screaming her name. It doesn’t matter.

She is a murderer. She is a massacrest. She is the first Flame Alchemist’s daughter.

Her thumb cocks the revolver’s hammer.

The air cracks with energy when she pulls the trigger, and she roars, brutal and remorseless, as the cartridge’s spark explodes into tongues of blue flame.

Lust’s scream is a shrill, ghastly sound, reverberating through the room in a horrible cacophony. It is the most gratifying thing Riza has ever heard, and so she cocks the gun again, firing a second round into the homunculus’s skull with cruel precision.

Another explosion bursts from the barrel, whiter than before. Long, insane ropes lash out in all directions from the epicenter, but the bulk of the flame crashes over Lust’s crumpled form in hungry waves. 

Riza can’t think, can’t process anything but the vicious satisfaction of watching her enemy die and die and die again. She’s standing as she unloads the revolver, the resulting flames growing paler and hotter and dangerously erratic, wild tongues of it leaping backwards to lick at her face.

There is one round left in the chamber. Riza points the muzzle at Lust’s heart with merciless intent.

And then suddenly, her flames vanish.

A conflagration of red fills her vision, devouring the unstable white like a predator. Its lingering tongues vaporize in an instant, and somewhere, caught in the blaze, she hears Lust’s last, piercing scream.

Her eyes stare wildly down the barrel of the revolver, and there he is.

He’s leaning heavily on one leg and gripping his side with one hand. In the other, he clutches a bloody cigarette lighter, raised before him like a shield. Dark blood drips onto his boots.

“Lieutenant.”

There is no way. 

He staggers forward, and his face is badly scratched, contorted in pain.

“Lieutenant. _Stand down._ ”

No. This is just a trick. A ploy by the homunculi. To catch her off guard, to betray her weak spot. 

She clenches her grip on the revolver.

“Drop your weapon, Lieutenant.”

“No.”

“That’s an order.”

_“She killed you!”_

Riza’s body shakes, and her eyes are narrowed with desperate fury.

“You’re dead. She killed you. I saw it in her face!”

Somehow, he’s still moving towards her.

“No, she didn’t. I’m here.”

Riza shakes her head violently like she’s ridding it of something, her eyes wrenched shut.

“I let her do it. _I let you die._ ”

“Lieutenant.”

“I was supposed to protect you.”

Suddenly there is a hand on her arm, and she shrinks away.

_“Riza.”_

The hard, black thing in her chest shatters, and she falls to her knees. The hand tugs the revolver from her grasp.

“I’m here.”

There’s a muffled thump as another pair of knees collapse to the floor beside her, fingers gripping her shoulders tight. She buries her head in her hands.

She starts to sob, hard and broken, and he holds her.


End file.
